For The Love Of Fear
by Beth Bo-Bomb
Summary: Enyo doesn't want to be scared any more. But it's difficult when a high-level mental patient kidnaps you. Sort of. Is it kidnapping if you go willingly? The police don't seem to care. And since she sort of helped Jonathan escape, she's now classed as insane. Which mean a bat's soon going to be on her back. And Crane seems to want her help with his latest experiment...
1. Prologue

"Fear is what keeps us in line. It's what keeps our deep, dark impulses under control- in order. Without fear, we could conquer the world. We could do whatever, not be afraid of the consequences. Wouldn't that be nice? To not be afraid?"

"I'm not afraid of anything." A smile flittered across my lips as I whispered to him, knowing that my words would irk him some. As if on cue, his brow creased, lips pursing slightly.

"Even if you don't think you are, there is fear haunting your every step. You're scared that you won't feel accepted, so you keep within the boundaries of society- wear the clothes they put into stores, eat the food they lay out in front of you. You work and you play as they please, scared that if you don't you'll be alone, vulnerable. Mocked and hated. You _are_ scared. And so am I."

I watched as his eyes brightened, heard his voice dip an octave as the passion seeped into it, more and more with every word.

I leaned forwards in the comfy armchair I was situated in, my body focused towards his own, which was positioned in a straight-backed chair; half towards his desk, half towards me. He gripped a pen tightly and scrawled some words onto his paper.

"What are _you_ scared of?" The curiosity in my voice was poorly concealed. My eyes met his and I refused to let them go until he gave me an answer.

A silence filled the room then; it seeped in slowly and carefully consumed the air, gnawing away at it as my amber orbs and his bright blue ones collided in slow motion.

"A lot of things." His voice was carefully deadpan- he was trying not to allow his voice to waver or break, something he was good at. He kept it steady and low, intoxicatingly stoic.

"Being slowly and brutally murdered is probably my top one- not very original, but there are certain conventional fears that even the best of us cannot escape.

Alas, I am not exempt from the social fears, much as I try. I am scared of bullies. A problem I acquired when I was younger. I am scared of shame, therefore I strive to do my best in everything. A filthy, yet fulfilling habit. There are more, but I do not wish to bore you."

I smiled at that. Boredom was never a part of our sessions; I was as interested in him as he was in me, and I found myself beginning to look forward to our time together. But the more time we spent together, the more I became hooked on what he was saying. The freedom that lay at the end of all of his laborious thinking was intoxicating. I wanted to be a part of it. I didn't want to be scared of anything anymore.

"If you could choose…would you let everyone defy fear, or just a select few?" He pondered my question, eyes narrowing in thought.

"Power…is a dangerous thing. Everyone is controlled by it, even those who think that they control it. Too many people with too much power would result in pure…chaos. People need something to idolise, and without fear we would lose those idols, because no one would be afraid of the consequences of becoming one. It would be one massive power struggle. So I suppose…only a select few. But it depends on the scale of how much they do not fear."

I nodded at his words, understanding.

"So you want people to be free of social restrictions and conventional fears and strip them down to who they truly are? So that we can all be free?" He nodded, the shine in his eyes telling me that he was pleased that I'd taken everything in.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEP

I jumped in shock, and he smirked at me. I threw him a quick glare before pressing the button on my watch to stop the alarm.

Rising to my feet, I smiled at him.

"Well Jonathan. I believe today's session turned out quite well. You may want to return the pen and paper to my desk; the guards may see it as a threat."

His lips twitched up at the word 'threat' and he nodded, standing up.

"Did you learn anything about me today?" Amused, I studied his face for any ill motives. Deciding to share, I began to speak.

"Not any more than usual. I found that you create a detached persona when lying and that you have self-idealisms when it comes to power distribution." I shrugged and smiled as his eyebrow rose curiously.

"I understand how you got the power distribution- I would be lying if I said that I was exempt to the lure of power or completely selfless. But lying? When did I do that?"

The wicked glint in his eye and smug twitch of his mouth told me that he knew exactly what I was talking about.

"For somebody trying to break the boundaries of fear, you have very conventional fears yourself. And you paused for longer than necessary."

He smirked, and the guards entered the room. Aaron Cash, head of security, shook his head when he saw that Jonathan no longer had his cuffs on.

"You're supposed to keep him cuffed at all times- you seem to forget he's a high security prisoner."

I tried not to roll my eyes at the disapproval in his voice.

"We've been through this before; I am trying to instil trust in my patient. Keeping him cuffed and locked to his chair somehow doesn't really help that. Besides, it's done at my own risk and I'm willing to deal with any consequences that may come from it."

He sighed and shook his head, moving back towards Jonathan.

"Whatever. As soon as he does something crippling to you I'll be the first to say I told you so."

I shrugged and pretended to look at my notes, hoping he'd leave quicker. As soon as I heard the door close I let out a sigh of relief and flopped back into my arm chair.

That was my last session with Jonathan Crane, before he escaped the next day, using the spring from my pen.


	2. Trust Exercises

_'High Level Security Patient, Jonathan Crane has recently escaped from Arkham Asylum. Police have sent out a warning that he is highly dangerous, and if sighted to make contact immediately. Gotham citizens are warned to avoid the slums, staying as close to the city as possible…' _

I stared at the screen, wide eyed and confused. Did they just say…Jonathan had escaped? Oh shit.

I looked at the pen sitting on my table and hurried over, trying to click it. Stupid thing. Useless thing. It was probably just jammed.

I unscrewed it and laid all the parts out. Everything was there…except for the spring.

"Bastard!"

"Now now, Enyo. There's no need for that kind of language."

I froze, wide eyed, and turned, though it was pointless. I already knew exactly who was standing behind me.

"You used the spring from my pen to pick the lock." My voice was deadpan, void of anything.

"Well done. I see your skills of deduction are working well."

I eyed him suspiciously, not moving. I felt like a deer caught in the headlights; like somehow not moving and staring at him with wide eyes would stop the inevitable collision.

"You look…surprised. A pity. I would have assumed that your psychoanalytical little brain would have figured out what I was doing long before it even happened." My lips pursed together, and a cocky smile gathered at his mouth, "Ahh…you did. I believe you're experiencing denial about it though."

I scowled and looked away, tearing myself away from the icy depths of his gaze before I froze over completely.

In some way…I had seen it coming. As soon as the TV had announced his escape, some part of me knew…or wanted…him to come here. Some part of me also told me that I'd subconsciously been helping him.

"You did help me. I assume that's what you're annoyed. All that trust you gave me…it only started after I'd opened up to you, and you to me. Perhaps you gave me too much trust. Perhaps you knew by doing this there was a large possibility I'd escape. You were always the one to hand me the pen. Without you, I'd still be in Arkham."

The words sunk in and I slid down into my sofa, head in hands.

"Don't act like the victim here."

Anger surged through me and I shot straight back up to my feet.

"I am not acting like the victim! I'm just a little bit worried that I am currently harbouring a highly dangerous convict in my house, let alone probably being one of the prime suspects for the case. Everybody noticed how much trust I gave you. I heard the rumours. Apparently I'm the next Harley Quinn."

His eyes became slits, and he swiftly moved towards me, seizing my arms before I could even process what was happening.

"Shut up. You're avoiding everything. You wanted this to happen. Subconsciously or no, you need to accept that you wanted this. You're so tired of your mundane life- trust me, that was easy to pick up on, even in the first few sessions. You forget that I'm a psychiatrist too. I know you. You wanted this."

A silence followed his words, tense and uncomfortable. I stared at the wall for a while, trying not to notice the vice-like grip he had on my wrists.

"How did you know my name?" His eyebrow raised at the question. I kept my eyes fixed on the wall.

"A guard said it once. I assumed it was correct. An interesting name." I shrugged.

"My parents were into Greek mythology."

"A war goddess, was she not? A consort of Ares?" I nodded and he smirked once more.

"How fitting." I sent him a curious look, and he elaborated, "Fitting, because it appears that you are indeed consorting with chaos."

Blue and red lights flashed against my window, and I jumped, moving away from the glass, despite not being that near it in the first place.

"You have a choice now. Choose wisely. You can either follow me or stay here. You figure out the implications."

My eyes flitted between the door of my apartment to Jonathan, my teeth beginning to scrape at my bottom lip.

"I'm on one of the highest floors. It'll take them about five minutes to get up. Do I have time to get my stuff?" He shook his head and I sighed, "Cat?" I glanced at Nyx, my little black cat, who had begun to purr as she wound her way around Jonathan's legs. He wrinkled his nose and shook his head, and I let out a huff.

"She'll follow anyway. How do you propose we get out?"

A wicked grin formed on his lips, and I suddenly remembered that I was dealing with a high level security mental patient.

"Time to put our little trust exercises to work."


End file.
